The sins of the father
by delusaedisillusa
Summary: In which Jaime is a creepy rapist who, after Cersei's death wants to turn Myrcella into Cersei
1. Chapter 1

She was dead.

He lived.

It didn't make any sense.

He had left her, and refused to answer her calls, refused to see her, refused to visit her, and refused to acknowledged her. It hurts him, but he knew it hurts her much more; he always listened to her and was always the one who had to yield. He was the one who had to ask; always to ask, always to share, always had to be the jealous one. He had enough, and she would experience how it hurt to be the beggar.

After hearing about her affair with Lancel, with Lancel of all the people, he decided to "grow a backbone," like Tyrion said and leave Cersei. He left her not because he didn't love her anymore - God be good, he didn't know how not to love her, - he had to leave because he was certain he would kill her.

Every day, he saw her. She was naked, glorious, shameless, and wanton. He could see her copulating in every position known to man.

He even tried to make excuses for her: Joffrey's death, for the power slipping from her fingers, but then he saw her riding Lancel, her opened mouth, her golden skin, she winks to him, hips undulating, chanting the words that made him her slave: "More… come deep in me… I want your cock to shape my cunt." She would play with his balls, with her scarlet nails scratching him…She would give him promises, she would give him her body, her nectar would flow from her mouth and her cunts. He did not want to leave her, ever. He wouldn't never be able to leave her.

He could still feel her. He could taste her sweat, her arousal. When he touched himself (for there was no other woman for him, she would be his only poison), it was her hand that stroked his cock, he could feel her damp folds on his leg, humping him, and he could almost feel her breath.

Damned his soul to the seven hells, for maybe he would forget her there. In life, he was trapped in her treacherous bosom.

Two moons, three moon turns… Sometimes he craved her like a junkie; he needed her like a fix. He needed her like air. He wanted to take her in his arms and shake her until she would die. He would take his artificial hand and do things to her, things he couldn't name, things that happened in his dreams, leaving him delirious and dirty.

Tommen died.

"My little lion cub, my little blond cherub," she whispered, with a voice still hoarse from yelling in pain. Tommen was the third, but also the biggest of her babies. He didn't pay attention to the baby, it would probably look like the others, and he couldn't take his eyes from her. No artist had ever painted a more beautiful Madonna than Cersei with her child. He could feel her ferocious love for the children like a poisonous cloud invading the birthing room. A love who was his only, and now he did have to share. Again.

Tyrion was begging him to go and see her. He would have been funny, his disheveled little brother, with red eyes and spotted shirt, but he spoke about the death of a barely twenty-one year old boy, who had been kind and good and regardless, a Lannister. A riding accident was the cause of death, he always wanted to ride like his uncle…

"You don't need to fuck her, just be her twin. She is broken Jaime, don't leave her." He was bawling at him, "she is just repeating yours and Myrcella's name. She is afraid of me; she says I would kill her. Jaime, please! I can't contact Myrcella, Cersei doesn't sleep, doesn't want to eat…" His brother was crying, strange that he had always been the family man, and still a large part of the family despised him. Tyrion had always loved his sister's children, and why not? They didn't take Cersei from him.

Strangely, he couldn't remember how Joffrey looked anymore, certainly like Cersei, an awful lot like him. He could only remember the mixed odor of her moon blood, and the nauseating smell of the flowers as he fucked her… her feeble, no… her white thighs. His Cersei: Iron and perfume.

He couldn't mourn for the monster they created, she couldn't forgive him.

He wanted her, she wanted power.

He was true to her, she fucked their cousin.

He could mourn for Tommen, the boy who wasn't chubby anymore, but was still kind and sweet.

He couldn't forget how he looked; he looked just like himself twenty years ago.

Maybe they could bond again, be whole once again, maybe he could forgive her.

Maybe.

She would be mourning and she would seek his presence.

She would hug him tight and never let him go. She would cry, and together, they could have spoke about their boy. He would come to her, her knight, and he would take her in his ensconced villa by the sea. No one could find them. No one would scorn. They would be like Adam and Eve, because really, wasn't Cersei just a piece of him?

What he found was despair. Tommen was dead, Myrcella's plane crashed. His family became smaller his world darker. Cersei wasn't in mourning; a corpse couldn't mourn, even for herself. She was lost, he was here, and she was lost. He was here.

Wasn't he enough?

Wasn't he?

Cersei died.

He clearly wasn't enough.

The next day after, she was dead. He didn't know how to live, or better yet, if he had to was way worse than losing his hand; that was a part he could confine, but Cersei was a cancer growing inside him. He couldn't rip her from himself, he would die, but to leave her rotting in him, would kill him too, only slowly and more painful. He did manage to replace Cersei's ashes with some dirt. He would take her with him, after his death, Tyrion would blend their ashes, together again. He couldn't hear the "she was a good mother, a real lion's mother," or "poor Cersei, she used to burn so bright, before her loss" anymore. Poor, miserable, spent…This wasn't his Cersei. Then again,when was the last time she was his? He was ready to leave, but then, a dead came alive. It wasn't Cersei.

Myrcella was distraught. She didn't take that unlucky plane, after Tommen's death she wandered without contacting anyone. She was crying, her hair in disarray, her mouth trembling as she tried to speak. "Uncle Jaime," she cried desperate, hugging him tight. She smelled like her, she looked like her, she felt like her. She was a part of her, and she belonged rightfully to him.

Jaime decided he would take another part of Cersei with him.


	2. Chapter 2

pThe wings of a butterfly/p

pThey all looked at her like she was rising from the /

They didn't expect her to be alive, but then again, she didn't expect to find her mother /

They were even./p

pMyrcella prided herself on being different from her parents - well, not exactly proud; most of the time, she was simply /

Her father - bless him, she had loved him, but he had been an awful father. Perhaps he was at his most endearing with /

Sometimes, when he was drunk he would call her his little princess, and tell her that he wished her mother would be more like her. Later, she would ask herself if he meant quiet and unspoiled,or just like a normal seven year old girl. She had hated him too, because she knew what he did to /

Not only did he sleep with most of her nannies - this was before uncle Stannis provided a distant cousin of his wife, a dear older woman with a moustache - he would always disappear with some woman on almost every /

He abused Mother when drunk (he was often drunk), and he would frequently slap /

Myrcella hated this side of him, and due to that, she loved her mother more. The best part of having Robert Baratheon as a father was to have uncle /

Uncle Renly was only 12 years older than Myrcella, and he was the first man Myrcella had wanted to marry. He looked just like father had (before gaining so much weight and growing a beard) - black-haired, with the most beautiful deep blue eyes. He was dashing, charming, funny, and despite being a man, he was always there for Myrcella's little girl /

She could still hear fathers barking laughter as she begged him to marry uncle Renly. "Why not, little girl? Maybe then my grandchildren would look like Baratheon, and not like some blond cats," Robert bit /

Uncle Jaime had laughed, uncle Tyrion feigned a broken heart, uncle Stannis had grinded his teeths (like always) and Mother had clearly looked upset, but when had mother not looked upset? Mother was a lioness. Mother had believed herself to be a lioness, a creature above all the others, nothing less for Tywin Lannister's /

Her /

Her beautiful, pitiful, crazy /

Once she had read a book about butterflies; they would never be able to fly if their wings were touched before finally emerging from its chrysalis. She remembers how she had to swallow a lump in her /

Her mother had been a butterfly who couldn't /

She had had to live with other insects, but she never had been be a part of their population. They couldn't understand her, her beauty, her being different, her being broken. She had fought, of course she did, but she had lost herself in the meantime. Her beautiful sad mother, married to man who didn't love her, and the power of her family always outside her /

She wasn't able to obtain the things she fought for, and was not ready to accept anything less than the things she believed were hers by right. Cersei Lannister, her love for her children had been absolute and fierce, strong and wounding, irrational and blind. She had cried and screamed as Myrcella was sent to a college in Dorne after father's death. Myrcella was forced to live with a family Mother despised, whom also reciprocated that /

She remembered she had slept in her mother's bed that last evening, hugging her like the time she had been a little girl. Mother always smelled so very good, she told her so, and she was rewarded with a hug and a bottle of her perfume. A perfume created and produced just for her "Queen of the Savanne."br /

Dorne was her mother's nightmare, but Myrcella decided she would try. She was already sixteen, and it was high time she would make some experiences outside Mother's fond, but firm /

In Dorne, she found friends and freedom. Dorne was the place to be. She missed Tommen, her mother, sometimes even Joffrey (really not so often) but they were a rich family. Tommen would often come visiting, even Joffrey came, before his tragic death, they skyped almost everyday, and she spent part of her holidays back at /

She found love with Trystane, the youngest son of her hosting family, who had his sister's look and his brother's nature. Trystane was a beautiful but kind and gentle boy. Myrcella had knew her granddad wanted to bind the Martell to the Lannister. Both family had shared business, Myrcella should integrate herself in Dorne and acting for the sake of her family. Myrcella had been honored and flattered; Tywin Lannister saw her as worthy to forge an alliance, if she was a piece of his chess play, she wouldn't be just a /

She loved Trystane, who wouldn't love Trystane? She was successful in her studies and she loved her foster family and was loved in return. She had fun, love and success. After all the casualties in her family: father's, uncle Renly's, and Joffrey's death, the falling out with uncle Stannis… after all this, at least a little bit of sunshine was deserved for her hurt soul, and Dorne was full of /

Maybe she could be happy, maybe even a Baratheon-Lannister could be happy. But there had been Mother's slowly dissolving sanity, the quarrels with the Tyrell's…She should have known, it wouldn't last. Myrcella thought her relation with Trystane to be secure and solid. She was his first, he was her first, they were lovers since almost four years. The Martells were amused about how serious they were, "like an old married couple," Arianne had always /

Then came Aegon Targaryen, Trystane's cousin. The sure, pragmatic, serious Myrcella, a bastion of calm, confidant of Aryanne and Ella Martell, friend and lover of Trystane, disciple of Doran Martell. Myrcella Baratheon, who had with seven years decided to never cheat on her loved one, was in a dilemma. All her being wanted to be with Aegon, and he wanted to be with her, she could /

She felt so guilty, she who had admired her grandad for being faithful to grandma Joanna's memory, wasn't better than her dissolute father. Before she could have done anything, the news of Tommen death tore her world. She escaped from Trystane and his care; she wanted to be alone in her journey to her little brother. It had hurt so much, she didn't feel really anything. Tommen couldn't be dead, he was so young, he was her sweet little brother, and he couldn't be dead. Tommen, the shy, chubby boy that was always afraid of /

Tommen, who cried after seeing large-scale livestock farming, and decided he wouldn't eat meat anymore. Tommen and his kitten, the blind donkey, the dog with three legs, the bipolar goat, and his white horse. Tommen laughing about some lame jokes, Tommen dancing with great aunt Genna. Tommen madly in love with the seven years older Margaery. Tommen sharing his cream puffs with her, Tommen, Tommen, and /

He was everywhere awake and in her dreams. Always /

She missed her plane ride, she had to cry so badly, and she didn't want to cry in public. She was a lioness, she would not /

The journey home was her own little /

She decided to take the train, but she was so numb so confused, she couldn't get anything right. It took her three days to arrive home, in three days she lost the remnant of her close family. She knew it was her fault, her supposed death caused her mother to lose her will to live. No one would love her like her mother did, no one would ever replace Tommen in her /

Myrcella felt so alone and again so guilty, like never in her life, she had killed her mother. After the memorial ceremony she took her uncle Jaime's offer to spend some time in his new secluded home./p

pNever would she have imagined, she would wake up with her uncle in her bed./p


	3. Chapter 3

pIn the treasure chest/p

p /p

pHe had hated Cersei, he had been furious, but he bought this house for /

He had wanted to take her in this house, their home, a home where they were able to be together without the need to hide anything for the first time in their /

A home just for the two of /

She wasn't really Cersei, but she would be. He would made her his /

He didn't have any remorse, Cersei died because of her, she and the other two took her away from /

To be a mother had killed /

She came to him saying "We both lost our dearest sibling" before hugging /

She didn't have any idea, she couldn't compare, she lost her family?br /

He lost /

The rage he felt took his numbness away,and thanks to that he could feel how her body was perfectly like Cersei's,how her hair shone like Cersei' eyes weren't quite right, they weren't as blazing as Cersei's had been...but she smelled like Cersei!br /

It was her perfume. His gift to her, because no one had to smell like her, the perfume was for his lion's queen, not for this little Martell /

If she wanted to wear this perfume she had to be his /

Talking to her had been awkward, she was nice to him, she was nice to everyone, but he doubts she liked him more than /

He knew Renly and Tyrion had always been her /

He was uncle Jaime, her mother's twin who didn't marry and was always near her /

It had been so easy to convince her to follow him, she was so trusting, also was very easy to make her believe it would be better if she wouldn't say she was going with /

She said to Tyrion, to the perceived 30 Martells who were there, she would like to be /

She would maybe rent a cabin in the /

"This is ridiculous Cella! This is exactly the substance of every horror movie! You need to talk, to be with people not to cloister yourself!" said a tall dark girl, Obara or something like thatbr /

"You can stay with your favourite uncle, dear. I wouldn't like to think about you lost in the woods" had said Tyrion, more a father than /

"I'm 22, an adult, capable of making decisions. I don't know how long I will take, but I need this, please"br /

-Good girl-br /

"Beware of wolfs Myrcella"br /

-and of the lions, never forget the lions-br /

They didn't talk all that much in his car, they had stopped to a mall so Myrcella could buy some clothes, she had lost all her cases in the plane /

She seemed happy to not to have to speak. She was much better than Cersei at hiding her emotions, she sometimes reminded him of his /

Not a reassuring /

"Uncle Jaime you really wasn't over exaggerating as you say it was secluded. No one would think there is a house in this place"br /

"Do you like it here?"br /

"I don't know it is very dark, but I guess the trees are beautiful. Do I…is the sea near?"br /

"Yes, a little private beach, you can see the sea, but you won't be seen"br /

"What do you want to hide uncle Jaime?"br /

-My treasure -br /

"I'd wanted to take your mother with me, so she could have mourn undisturbed. I hope this will help you"br /

He could see how her eyes filled with tears, he did gave her credit, she could suppress her tears better than most /

They ate without any appetite, almost in silence, it was late and Myrcella soon asked to see her /

-What to do next?-br /

His plan had been to convince (he would have tried) or abduct (more likely) Cersei, he had supplies for months, maybe even years! Fresh vegetables in the garden, cans, he had hired a gardener and whatever else he needed would be delivered in a cabine 4 miles away from his /

His Cersei had been a wild creature he had been ready to tame her. He even had a straitjacket, handcuffs and some drugs ready. He had planned to cure her alcohol addiction and had hoped to use the handcuffs for more pleasurable /

He had wanted to fuck her in every room and every position he /

Of course he would have had to punish her, her affair wasn't forgiven and forgotten, this would have been fun /

He wasn't sure how to start, the-not-yet-Cersei had had been an impromptu action, Cersei had been born with him, he knew her body as good as her, some parts even better than her. He could sense her arousal, her mood swings, her /

He knew that he had to turn a blind eye to some of her attics, but not /

Cersei had been a wild and exquisite creature, a woman who couldn't have not been doomed. He had loved to see her greedy and ruthless, but then she slipped from his fingers,this wouldn't happen a second /

He should have never let her get married, he shouldn't have let her give birth to the children of another man , he should have kidnapped her /

The-not-yet-Cersei owed him her life, he hadn't killed her for causing Cersei's /

This time he would have a different version of Cersei, a manageable one, one who would be truly /

He didn't gave a damn if she didn't want /

Life wasn't a song, there were no knights, and it was so easy to lose part of oneself; Cersei had been as much a part of him as his missing /

You can't always have what you want, but Lannister's paid their debts, and she would /

He decided not to wait, he had so much work to do, he had no time for a leisurely /

He wouldn't gag her, why? Nobody would be able to hear her. But he would use the handcuffs, he wasn't in the mood for /

He had no desire to play the good /

A doe who would venture to the den of the lions, would be /

A lioness who would venture to the den, well she would be /

He didn't know to which sort the-not-yet-Cersei belonged to, but soon he would have an /

-How can she sleep with the moon shining this bright!-br /

Myrcella's curtains weren't closed, in the moonlight she seemed like a marmor statue. Her beauty ethereal almost /

But Jaime Lannister knew perfection since his birth, he was pleased to see that her resemblance wasn't only in her face. The proud round breasts barely concealed in her cheap cotton nightgown, the long shapely legs he could intuit under the covers, her delicious face…br /

His cock was hard, yeah, now he knew he could take the next /

He would fuck her/p


End file.
